Tough Love
by Rasengan22
Summary: Suffering from depression and PTSD following an accident, Sasuke has done his best to push everyone away. Almost everyone, anyway. Sasuke-centric. Sasuke/Naruto. Written for wnnabe.


**A/N** _:_ This is a "drabble" written for wnnabe on Tumblr who requested: "sasuke being depressed and naruto attempting to help but sasuke is refusing to accept help". Thank you for requesting this!

* * *

 _Well, I know I'm hard to take  
_ _And my bones are calling out your name  
_ _While I beat your cold windows  
_ _Break the locks on the gate  
_ _While I try to forget  
_ _I used to be something great_

"All I Want" - Dawn Golden

* * *

 **August 20, 2018**  
 _You okay? Some of us are goin out for pizza tonight. Do you wanna come?_

 **August 21, 2018**  
 _We missed you last night. Hope you're doin ok. Text me back when u feel up to it_

 **August 23, 2018**  
 _Dude, I'm seriously starting to get worried. Are you even home? Can you at least text me and let me know you're alive. I tried calling and you won't pick up. I'm going to come over tomorrow_

 **August 24, 2018**  
 _Hey, I'm at your door. Could you answer? Your car's here. Sasuke. I swear to God, if you don't come down here and answer the door, I'll break it down. If your dead body is decaying in your room, I'm going to kill you._

 **August 29, 2018**  
 _I thought about what you said last week, and I'll give you your space if that's what you want. But I'm here whenever you need me, okay. Anytime you need to vent or talk_

 **September 4, 2018**  
 _Hey, it's been a while. I know I said I'd give you space, but I did want to check in. I… miss you._

 **September 7, 2018**  
10:34 A.M.  
 _Uh, I got your voicemail last night. Are you drinking again? WTF? Like, do you even remember all the shitty things you said? I want to be there for you, but… Jesus, man._

 **September 7, 2018**  
12:45 P.M.  
 _If that's how you feel, cool. I know you're pushing everybody away, but you can't just trash everybody around you. You made Sakura cry the other day. She only wants to help!_

 **September 7, 2018**  
1:00 P.M.  
 _I know it's not about me or Sakura, that's not what I was saying. Do we have to do this through text? We want to help you, but you have to want to help yourself, too, man. Are you even taking your meds still? I hope not with alcohol. Just… call me. We can talk about it, or let me come over and I'll help you clean the place up and order you food or something._

 **September 7, 2018**  
2:00 P.M.  
 _Don't disappear again, Sasuke. Should I be trying to get a hold of your brother? If I don't hear from you in a few hours, I'm coming over. I know how to get through your garage._

 **September 7, 2018**  
5:30 P.M.  
 _Did you really leave the house just to avoid me? Well, I cleaned up your house and brought over some food. There wasn't much in your fridge… are you even eating? I guess I'm happy you got outside, but it sucks you did it to avoid me. Text me when you're back, so I know you got home._

* * *

 **October 9, 2018**  
10:38 P.M.

Sasuke lay on his side, room dark, and hidden beneath the safety of his blankets. He held his phone in his hand, scrolling through old texts—mostly ones he'd exchanged with Naruto over the past couple of months. Their group of friends were going out tonight since tomorrow was Naruto's birthday. Once again, Sasuke was a no-show. Even though he knew he was an asshole for not going, for coming up with an excuse they knew wasn't true, for being unable to get himself to _want_ to go, to get out of this bed, this room, this house. It was like a cycle he couldn't escape. Again, he scrolled back to the beginning of their texts—or, at least as far back as it went until the last time he'd deleted Naruto as a contact. Only to add him back again.

Naruto used to text every day. Then, every other day. Now, he texted twice a week. Sasuke had yelled at him, ranted at him, blocked and unblocked him. Maybe in those times there had been other messages he didn't receive, but they were basically all the same. Sometimes, Naruto would come over to the house, and, if he had warning, Sasuke would leave to go to the store. If it was a surprise, Sasuke might jump into the bathroom and turn on the shower. He could've just stayed under the covers and not answered, but he did feel guilty. It ate at him, too. The lying, the avoidance, or how he hurt Naruto with the cruel things he said. Other friends had stopped texting and calling long ago. Some of them, no doubt, hated him by now. But, didn't that just prove who his real friends were? Sure, when he was put together, when he provided the witty commentary, or showed up fashionably late, looking cool and trendy—didn't they love him? Didn't they all want him to be at their function? Yet, when he was at his lowest, it only took a few verbal slaps in the face before they decided he was a demon, a bad friend, cruel, _abusive_.

Funny. He thought he'd _always_ been that guy?

Six months ago, Sasuke was in a pretty bad car accident. It wasn't his fault. Someone had fallen asleep and crossed the median, slamming into the front of his car. The person had died. Sasuke had, somehow, walked away with only a few scrapes and bruises. They said it was shock, at first, when he had trouble concentrating at work and had to take time off. One day, he just didn't feel like getting out of bed anymore. He'd lost his appetite. It would be three days before he would bother showering when he _used_ to be OCD about hygiene. There was something always strange and heavy inside his head, making it hard to concentrate, making it hard to feel like himself in any way. The longer he felt like he wasn't himself anymore, the more depressed and anxious he became. He tried therapy for about a month, but he couldn't stand his therapist. The anti-depressants made him nauseous. He'd lost about 10 pounds in the last four months. There were times he didn't think he'd be able to work again either, and it scared him. Sometimes he took it out on his friends or his brother. His parents lived in Japan, so there wasn't much they could do. When they contacted him to ask how he was doing—he lied.

The only ones who hadn't given up were Itachi and Naruto, but his brother was busy. His work required a lot of international travel, and he couldn't fly here every time Naruto chose to tattle on him. So, in a way, Sasuke felt dependent on Naruto. That also annoyed him. Very much.

Sometimes he would lie awake during the day—or even the night since insomnia was just part of the game—and wonder what more he could do to push Naruto away. What was that _one_ thing he could say to inflict the final damage necessary to convince that idiot to finally give up?

Sasuke wanted to be alone; he _deserved_ to be alone. Whether or not it was his fault, someone had died as a result of his actions. Could _he_ have died? Yes. But, he hadn't. Instead, someone's teenage kid had fallen asleep driving home for for Easter holiday, had fallen asleep, and died. Gone. Just like that. One moment they were driving, maybe thinking about being home and with their family, and then _dead_. When Sasuke was in the hospital, being treated for minor injuries, it's all he could think about. Almost obsessively. He still thought about it. The therapist wanted him to talk about it, but eventually he ran out of things to say. He couldn't even remember the moment of impact; it knocked him out briefly. When he came to, he remembered seeing the body being put on a gurney. He remembered the sirens and the lights, a ringing in his ears. He saw the scrapes on his arms and forehead and face. Vaguely, he remembered a random police officer commenting on how it was a miracle that he'd managed to survive.

It made him laugh now, to think of that officer. Because… was this living?

This wasn't living. And there were times he thought it would be like this forever. In those times, he'd thought about ending his own life. He'd cut himself. Once. Not deep enough to do damage, and then he'd had to listen to Naruto bitch about it and threaten to tell Itachi or his parents.

That was the first time he told Naruto to fuck off, right to his face.

It had shocked Naruto, but, in a way, had made Sasuke feel better.

On a daily basis, he lived with all of this anger inside him and nowhere to dump it. So, he dumped it on Naruto when possible. Yet, Naruto always came back for more. The next time, Sasuke tried to be even more cruel. All this pain that he felt, pain he felt all the _fucking_ time, he wanted someone else to feel. On some level, he knew it was wrong, but it _hurt_. If Naruto didn't like it, he could walk away at any time. Sasuke liked being alone, but when it was a whole day or two that he didn't hear from Naruto… it did start to bother him. What would he do if Naruto _did_ give up? If there was absolutely no one around to listen to him bitch and moan?

If he was left alone with only his thoughts.

Sasuke, for about the tenth time, scrolled back to the beginning of his texts with Naruto, reading them more slowly. When an exchange turned angry or bitter, Sasuke felt his heart thump in his chest. When Naruto pleaded with him, he felt a sick delight. When he was cruel to Naruto, he felt a sense of satisfaction. Was it manipulative of him? To seek attention? To use the accident as a reason to be a piece of shit to Naruto, or any of their friends?

Did it matter? So _what_ if he was manipulative? No one knew what that was like. For him. To live through that and know someone died. To see their family at the hospital, the mom's hysterical crying echoing down the hallway, the father with the red face who was trying to keep it together for his family, their two young daughters who seemed terrified just to be there.

Sasuke wasn't worth that. His life wasn't worth that. He thought about how many choices he'd made that day so that those cars would have to pass at that exact instant. It was a late night at work. Naruto had been nagging at him that he'd been working too much, but Sasuke felt a need to go above and beyond in his work. Maybe he'd observed it from his childhood, watching his father, who would one day work himself to death, too. If he'd gone home instead of staying, maybe that college kid would've just drifted off the road instead of slamming into the front of his car at about 55 mph. It was like insanity, really. The thoughts occurred in loops, over and over again, every second he was awake, every day. He saw it even in his dreams. The days would pass and all he'd done was think. At night, he'd start to think about how it should've been him instead of this younger person, because what did _Sasuke_ have to give to the world?

He wasn't like Naruto. He wasn't the life of the party. He wasn't a ray of sunshine. He didn't remember friends' birthdays or think to call them if it sounded like they were having a rough day. He didn't call Sakura up to see if she felt like going to eat or wanted to shop at her favorite store.

Who was he? He didn't know anymore. He used to have some kind of identity, some way he saw himself, but now… he couldn't remember? It was like his identity had vanished. There was no sense of self at all. He felt like he was only existing in his mind, and it was always so cloudy in there. Throw in the occasional antidepressant medication—was he even alive anymore?

Some days he felt so out of it, he wondered if he'd died in the accident and was simply haunting his home, stuck in some fucked up loop, where he imagined the people he once knew still existed. Or, had any of it ever really existed? Anything before the accident? What was real?

If it kept going on like this, what could he do to finally end it all? To get it to stop?

Getting better, was that even an option? It seemed like such an impossible notion. With the way he felt, he might never be the same, and if he couldn't be who he used to be—what was the point? And, even if he ever got better, people would always think of him as weak. For succumbing to all this bullshit. Why wasn't he strong enough to pull himself out of it? Especially… especially when everyone kept giving up on him. He was depressing to be around. He made people uncomfortable. In a way, he understood, but feeling so alone while going through all of this, it was… it was like death in a way. An unbearable one.

* * *

 **October 10, 2018**

12:01 A.M.  
 _This is where you say Happy Birthday, punk._

The text notification on his phone woke him up. He'd drifted off to sleep. Sasuke stared at the text and the picture of Naruto out with everyone else at a local restaurant. They appeared as though they were having a good time. He didn't want to ruin it by replying.

12:30 A.M.  
Two more photos: one of Naruto and Sakura and one of Naruto, Shikamaru, Chouji, Kiba, and Sai. Sasuke zoomed in, looked at every detail closely on both photos, and felt a stirring of anger and irritation he couldn't exactly rationalize. There was an urge to say something nasty, but he swallowed it. In fact, he rolled out of bed, stomach grumbling, and went down to the kitchen to open his nearly empty refrigerator. Naruto had been the last person to stock it, and for some reason, had bought him a giant bag of string cheese. Ironically, it was one of the few things Sasuke was willing to eat. Before all this, he never would've eaten processed foods, but now it was easier to grab it out of the fridge and eat whatever. Fruit was good, too, but he'd eaten it all.

How reliant had he become on Naruto to do these things? How _long_ had he been doing these things for Sasuke? Funny. He couldn't remember.

When he finished his first string cheese, he threw the wrapper in the trash underneath the sink, and opened the fridge again to find a drink. He must've stared inside for a good 10 minutes, thinking about the party, wondering what others were thinking of him since he didn't show for his best friend's 25th birthday. Why did he care what they thought anyway? But, it didn't stop the thoughts from coming. _Repeat_. _Repeat_. _Repeat_. Just like always. Always stuck and unable to stop it unless he unleashed on someone else or took a sleeping pill. At this point, he knew he wouldn't be tired if he did that, so there was always watching something on TV. Itachi had been managing his bills, so Sasuke didn't worry about rent or subscriptions or other adult tasks. It was all magically taken care of, and, as mentioned, Naruto would come and clean or bring food. Being that it was Naruto, however, his attempts at cleaning were piss poor, but once a month, a maid service came in. It was pathetic, sure, but Sasuke rationalized it in his own way. He wasn't lazy, he was disturbed, disabled. He was _crazy_. He was depressed and agoraphobic and even getting out of bed each day was supposed to be a sad victory for him. For all those days he hadn't chosen to kill himself, he _deserved_ a monthly house cleaning, so that he wasn't living in squalor and could pretend that he still resembled the human being he once was, even if it was like a husk of his former self. He knew—fromthe way people looked at him. The only one who didn't look at him differently was Naruto. Naruto still talked to him, joked with him, got mad at him, lectured him, got hurt because of him… none of those things Sasuke had taken the time to plot—on how to push him away—had succeeded. Did this make him happy, or…

Did it give him hope?

He tore open his second string cheese, lost in thought again as he peeled it into tiny strings, the fridge light bleeding onto the kitchen floor. He left the doors open for so long that the appliance began to beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Sasuke snapped out of his thoughts, grabbed a bottled water, and slammed the doors shut before taking the steps slowly back upstairs to his room.

* * *

2 A.M.

On his side, Sasuke stared at the tiny screen of his iPhone, watching an episode of _Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown_. It was both morbid and soothing to watch this man, who'd killed himself shortly after the car accident. Sasuke spent a lot of time through the first few seasons trying to grasp what kind of person he was, what his suffering was like, if there were any signs he should be aware of in himself. Most likely, he'd concluded, it had something to do with a relationship. If that were true, however, Sasuke would lose all the respect he had for him. At least save it for something more extreme. Like, finding out you have Alzheimer's. Huh. He should watch _Dead Poet's Society_ next. Although thoughts of suicide had flitted in and out of his mind on several occasions, it seemed like too much work. First, he'd have to come up with a plan, and that wasn't his strong suit at the moment. Driving made him shake, so he was most likely to drive off the side of the road, but the thought of going through another accident—

Text:  
 **2:07 A.M.**  
 **Naruto**  
 _Hey. I'm on your porch. Do you mind opening the door? I know you're awake._

 **2:09 A.M.** _  
_ **Naruto** _  
I'm okay with staying out here until you come down, even if it's tomorrow morning._

Sasuke stared at the two texts, his mind whirring and not entirely able to put coherent thoughts together. Naruto? Here? But… birthday? Alone? No, he looked like a mess. If Sasuke pretended to be asleep, Naruto would go away eventually. He could turn notifications off.

Still, he stared at the messages. Another went off, then another a few minutes later. He sighed. This really could go on all night long.

 **Sasuke  
2:18 A.M.**  
 _Fine, I'm coming._

He set his phone aside, ignoring when it went off again, and got out of bed. He was dressed in the same clothes he'd went to bed in yesterday—sweatpants and a Ramones t-shirt. Sasuke stopped off in the bathroom to gargle _Scope_ and run some water through his hair. It looked greasy, but hadn't he _just_ washed it the other day? He couldn't remember. To be honest, he didn't look so great. There were dark bags under his eyes, a sallowness to his pale skin, his eyes were red and maybe slightly dilated. Sasuke took a closer look, pulling at the skin underneath his left eye only to remember he'd left a contact in for over 24 hours. No wonder his eyes hurt. He peeled it out and left it on top of the plastic case. Since he could only half-see anyway, he reached for the pair of glasses he kept on top of a shelf above the toilet. With any luck, if he took his time, maybe Naruto would go away? What was so special about a birthday? Sasuke didn't particularly care about his, though he'd spent a part of it with Naruto. The blond man had busted in through his garage to bring him a lop-sided cake with a design in icing that was supposed to resemble Sasuke's head. _Maybe_. He wasn't sure. Naruto ate most of it.

When he finished up in the bathroom, he flipped on the hall light and started down the steps. There was no porch light, so Naruto was waiting in the dark—hopefully, alone.

With a heavy sigh, Sasuke twisted the knob and opened the front door. Naruto, grinning ear to ear, stood there with his hands stuffed in a dark navy wool coat, a white Styrofoam box in hand.

"Yo, Sasuke," he said.

Sasuke stared at him—wondering at the oddly bright glint of his blue eyes—then he glanced at the box, then up again at Naruto.

"Happy birthday," Sasuke muttered.

"I brought you food." Naruto jiggled the box. "In case you were hungry."

"I ate." He leaned against the doorframe. "I had some of your string cheese."

The blond chuckled, rubbing at the side of his nose. "Yeah?"

"I had two, I should say."

"Wow, you really binged tonight, didn't you?" Naruto shoved the box at him. "Are you gonna let me in, or are we just gonna stand around on your porch?"

Sasuke put a hand up, halting him before he could enter. "Are you alone?"

"Huh?" Naruto glanced around, apparently not quite comprehending the question at first. Then, he returned his attention to Sasuke, suddenly looking disappointed. "Oh. _Really_ , Sasuke?"

"If you're going to—"

"They're your friends. But, yeah. Yeah, I'm alone."

"Because no one else wanted to come?" He folded one hand over the other on the frame and leaned the side of his face against them.

Sasuke watched Naruto's face. He was always a terrible liar.

" _I_ wanted to come," Naruto answered. "I wanted to see you."

"I didn't buy you a present."

"I didn't want you to. That's not why I came over. Besides, you answering the door is a gift in itself?" Naruto grinned. "I didn't know if you'd be up."

"I'm always up." Sasuke stepped aside, making a grand gesture with his arm. "Come in."

Naruto walked in, stomped his boots on the rug, and took them off without Sasuke asking. As if he owned the place, Naruto stepped into the kitchen and threw the leftovers into the microwave.

"It's some steak and stuff," he said. "It's been in my car, and it was pretty cold, so…"

Sasuke entered the kitchen, but stayed close to the doorway. He had his arms crossed, eyes narrowed and watching every single movement Naruto made. The other man bustled around the kitchen, grabbing a plate out of one cabinet, silverware, a glass, opening the fridge and frowning—mumbling to himself about getting groceries—and, finally, back to the microwave.

Just as Naruto set everything out on the table, Sasuke chose the perfect time to say—

"I'm not hungry, Naruto."

"Ah, well that's fine." Naruto stared at him with that same look he always gave Sasuke these days. Hurt, but pretending not to be. It was infuriating. "You sure? You said you only had string cheese."

"It's late," Sasuke said. "I'm fine."

"Alright, uh, I'll just put some foil on it and you can have it tomorrow. Looks like you could use some groceries. I'll go to the store tomorrow if you want, get you some basic stuff."

"I'm fine, Naruto. You'll probably need to recover from a hangover, right?"

"What hangover?" Naruto was busy noisily tearing off some foil and wrapping it over the plate. He opened the fridge and set it inside, standing only a foot from Sasuke.

"You didn't drink tonight?"

"I drank, but not enough to be hungover."

Sasuke stared.

"What?" Naruto asked. "You don't believe me?"

"Why didn't you drink?"

"I told you, I—"

"—Did you figure that you couldn't because you'd have to come over and check up on me afterward, or did you feel guilty?"

"Sasuke, I—"

"It's fine. I don't care. I'm glad you went out for your birthday."

"Really?" Both of Naruto's brows went up. "Because you sound like you're not. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound bitter, dude. I didn't come here to pick a fight."

He scowled at Naruto's tone. "Then why _did_ you come?"

Instead of going berserk or snapping at him, Naruto simply sighed—heavily—as if Sasuke were merely a child making an illogical argument.

"What?" Sasuke asked, annoyed.

Naruto's expression remained uncharacteristically stoic. "Don't you find it _exhausting_ to be like this all the time with me?"

"What's 'like this'?"

"You," Naruto shrugged his shoulders. "Always picking a fight. Not just with me, with everyone? Anyone? I mean, I get that you don't mean it, but… it gets old."

"Oh, oh, _really_?" Sasuke scoffed. "I'm so sorry I'm still recovering from that time I nearly died, and, you know, some teenager flew through a windshield and splattered across the highway."

"I've heard this before," Naruto said. "That is not what this is about. It's not, and even if it was, why do you push everyone away? What does that have to do with any of that?"

"What are you, an amateur psychologist now?"

"I just came by to say hi. Not even gonna throw in that it's my birthday today and I wanted to see you on my birthday, but yeah, oops. I guess I just did. I dunno why I thought it'd be different."

"Yes, because I am the depression pumpkin and for one night a year, on your birthday, it magically disappears and forces me to become the me you used to know."

"Is that what this is about?" Naruto asked him. "I've never expected you to be who you were before the accident. Why would I? I don't expect you to ever forget that, but I don't get why you take it out on anyone and everyone who tries to help you. Do you _want_ to be alone?"

"I could be if you'd stop nosing into my business."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna take the bait this time," Naruto muttered. "We've done this enough in the last six months. I've stopped getting angry, Sasuke. I only feel sorry for you."

Sasuke gave him a push. "Say that again."

He pushed him until Naruto's back hit the counter.

"What? That I feel sorry for you? I do." Naruto grabbed his wrist. "I do feel sorry for you because you deserve better than this, all this shit you've been putting yourself through."

"You think I want to be like this—"

"— _No_. And yes, yes I do. I think it gives you an opportunity to wallow, but I get it. You're depressed. It's hard, but how I can I help you? What can I do to help you move forward? Not forget, but just move on so that you can live, dude. Because, Sasuke, _this_ is not living."

"There's no manual for this," Sasuke replied, voice quiet and low. "No expiration date. I don't even know how I'm going to feel day to day, Naruto. So, yes. Of course I'm angry because I'm frustrated! With everyone. With myself, with my situation. I am miserable, so I want to make everyone else miserable, and if they walk away, that's fine, too. One less person to bother me."

"Yeah, but what do you do when there's _no one_ left?"

"If there's no one left, then it doesn't matter," he said. "Does it?"

"What's that supposed to mean." Naruto let go of his wrist; Sasuke's arm fell to his side.

"Nothing." He smirked. "I'm fine."

Naruto crossed his arms. "I might slap you."

"I might like it."

Naruto rolled his eyes, then averted his gaze out the kitchen windows—looking out at the long driveway in front of Sasuke's one-bedroom house. The house was tucked away from the street and surrounded by woods. It was almost pitch-black out. The sudden silence made it feel all the more isolated, even though Sasuke was accustomed to living in the country.

"Well, I'm here," Naruto murmured, pressing his socked toes to Sasuke's shin. "What do you wanna do? You can kick me out, and I'll go, but I came to hang out. I really did just want to see you, not to hover, but… because it's my birthday and, yeah, I wanted to see you and be with you and since you didn't go out with us—which is fine—I came here. That's all. You know I'm too stupid to have any kind of ulterior motive."

The corner of Sasuke's mouth quirked. "You _are_ pretty stupid."

"Did I not just mention it's my birthday?" Naruto set his foot flat to the floor.

"You did. A few times."

"Means you're supposed to be nice to me."

"Then you came to the wrong guy."

"No, I didn't," Naruto insisted. "Like, you've been my best friend for a long time, Sasuke. Minus those couple of years where you were a complete dingwad to me—"

"—Dingwad?"

"I don't see this as a permanent thing. Maybe you do? And, yeah, that would be hella fuckin' frustrating, but it won't be like this forever. And I know it doesn't make it all go away, or mean you won't have bad days until you get there—yeah. But, I know it, so that's why it sucks to see you suffer day in and day out, and… maybe some of our friends are, whatever—"

"Have completely flaked out on me?"

"Yeah, but can you really blame them? It's hard to get yelled at every day when you're just tryin' to help."

"Is that how you feel?" He asked.

"Instead of focusing on that," said Naruto. "Why don't you think about our friends and cut them some slack. Just like you're doing the best you can, so are they."

"Well, their best sucks," Sasuke muttered.

"What does _your_ best look like? Is _this_ your best?"

"It's my best for right now." He slipped a hand into a pocket of his sweatpants. "You do sound like an amateur psychologist. What, are you reading all the Buzzfeed articles you can about when your friend has depression and PTSD?"

"I've read stuff, yeah," Naruto replied. "How else can I, y'know, understand. Not, fully understand, but just… understand. And see if I can… help. In a… non-patronizing way."

"Your passive attitude is making me very itchy," he remarked.

"S'probably 'cause you haven't showered in a few days."

Sasuke sneered. "Asshole."

"Stinkybutt."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay. I'm sorry I got out of bed for this.

Sasuke turned to leave, but Naruto grabbed his arm, turned him around, and pulled him into a rough hug. The kind that made their chests smack together, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Naruto's embrace was tight and desperate. Normally, he didn't tolerate physical affection, but it seemed Naruto needed it more than him, and… it was warm. Something about it soothed a deep part within him, calmed him, and, for a brief second, made him feel himself again.

"Are you a witch?" Sasuke asked, lips near Naruto's ear.

Naruto chuckled. "Huh, why?"

"Nevermind."

"No, tell me." Naruto squeezed him tighter.

"I need to shower. Stop touching me."

"So, you agree you stink then?"

"I doubt I _stink_ ," he argued. "I did brush my teeth today, at least."

"Good job." Naruto pat him on the back. "It's those tiny victories that matter most."

"Uh huh." Sasuke bit his lip before speaking again, "Naruto?"

"Hm?"

"...Happy birthday."

"Thanks." Naruto let go of him, pushing them apart.

"And… thank you for coming over."

"Don't get all soft on me now, I might start cryin' in the club."

"Must you make everything a joke?" He asked, smiling.

"Made you smile, didn't it?"

"I'm laughing at your stupidity."

"I'll take it." Naruto grinned. "Now, go take a shower, stinky. And we'll watch a movie, or do somethin'. I dunno. I'll even jerk you off if you want me to."

"That escalated quickly. How did it go from watching a movie to jerking me off?"

Naruto shrugged. "S'how much I love you, I guess."

"...Right."

"Okay, well, uh. I'll make myself comfortable while you're in the bathroom then."

Sasuke, gave him a light push to move him out of the way. "You always do."


End file.
